By the age of 10, I considered myself a novice warrior. No longer that lost boy who had never touched a bow or arrow. In three years and three months, I had crossed a chasm. I had gone from a novice to someone capable of accomplishing the unthinkable.
When I got home, my father was already there, having returned from his territory. He came up to me immediately, his hands exploring my body, as if he wanted to check something he himself didn't understand. He looked at me in a different way, his eyes shining with an emotion I couldn't decipher.
- Congratulations. - His voice was muffled, as if he was trying to control something inside him. That look... I'd never seen him look at me like that.
Concern grew in my chest. Had I done something wrong? Had I fulfilled what he expected of me?
- Had I done something wrong? - I asked, my voice wavering, but Rillen just smiled, the proudest smile I've ever seen in my life.
- No, I was just surprised... You're my pride. - He stood up and hugged me with a strength that almost took my breath away.
And there, in the warmth of the embrace, the words got stuck in my throat. I wanted to say so much, but what mattered most was that moment. I didn't know how long we stayed like that, but I felt every second as if it were sacred time, time just for us.
I squeezed him with all the strength I had and, in a low voice, almost like a whisper, I said:
- I won't let you down.
For me, my father was more than a hero. He was my idol, the person I looked up to, and at that moment I knew I would do anything not to fail him.
***
I began to notice the changes inside me. What had previously been just a vague intuition, something I felt but didn't fully understand, now became a sharp, clear perception, a focus I'd never imagined I'd reach. I had advanced to the level of beginner warrior, and with that, something inside me changed profoundly.
I could now feel my body in a new way. Every movement I made seemed more precise, more natural, as if the world around me was within reach with a simple thought. I concentrated on the area between my eyebrows, where I felt a kind of "invisible eye". It wasn't something physical, but the sensation was like an internal vision, something that guided my movements with impressive clarity. It was as if I was seeing and feeling everything at the same time, something beyond simple vision.
Over time, I noticed another change in my body. When I was still a simple peasant, I could barely shoot a hundred arrows a day, and I thought that was the maximum I could achieve. But now, as a preparatory warrior, the number of shots had risen to a thousand. I no longer felt limited by my body's resistance. Every movement, every pull of the bowstring, seemed easier. And now, as a novice warrior, the number of arrows shot per day was up to two thousand.
But with this evolution came a crucial change in my equipment. The ordinary longbow I had trained with for so long was no longer enough. I felt that the bow could no longer keep up with me. I needed something stronger, sturdier, something that would match the strength I was beginning to develop. That's when my father, realizing this change, gave me a war bow, with iron arrows made for battles, no longer training arrows. I knew that with this, my body would have to adapt once again. And, as expected, the number of shots dropped to a hundred a day. But the quality of each shot was now much higher. I could feel the power in every movement, the absolute control I had over my bow and my skill.
But the real improvement lay in something deeper, in something that couldn't be quantified by numbers or my body's endurance. It was an ability to feel. I learned to feel the "light of life" pulsating throughout my being. As if every muscle, every tendon, was attuned to something greater. I felt my body moving in perfect harmony, and every arrow I shot was a reflection of that connection.
It was a skill I needed to control. And as the months went by, I became more adept. Every day, my perception widened. I began to realize that I was on the verge of reaching a new level. It was something I felt deeply, as if a new stage in my evolution was about to take place. I didn't know exactly what it would mean, but I felt I was close.
At the end of the sixth month of the year, I knew I was close to something big. I woke up early that morning, as usual. The air was still chilly and the sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon. What awaited me was the same daily training: a bit of practice with fixed targets to warm up the body and, more importantly, warm up the mind. I needed to prepare myself for what was to come. Each shot seemed more fluid, more intuitive. I no longer thought about how to pull the string or align the arrow. I simply felt what I had to do, as if the bow was moving on its own, guided by my perception.
After my morning practice, I went back to my room. It was a mechanical process, putting on the leather hunting clothes, strapping the bow bag and quiver to my body. Movement was natural now, like breathing. Two soldiers were already waiting for me at the castle gate. They watched me with serious looks, but I was too focused on myself to worry about them. The world around me seemed distant. All I could feel was the pressure in the center of my forehead, where the sensation pulsed as if my body was about to explode from so much accumulated energy.
About half an hour later, I was far from the castle. I entered the forest, heading towards my usual hunting ground. There was no hurry in my steps. I was more focused on what I felt in the space between my eyebrows than on the forest around me. Every sound of nature, every movement of the trees, everything seemed amplified, as if my perception had expanded beyond the limits of my body.
I reached a high point in the forest and sat down on the ground. I placed the bow and quiver in front of me, feeling the pressure grow more and more on my forehead. It was as if my blood vessels were pulsing chaotically, forming a "Y" pattern, an intense sensation that I couldn't control. It was like I was on the verge of something, on the verge of a breakthrough that I couldn't fully understand. But I knew that if I could control this pressure, this feeling, I would take the next big step.
It was the crucial point, the moment when I would have to rely on everything, I had learned so far. And at the same time, I knew that there was still so much more to discover about myself.